


Come Out for a Swinging Wake

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cemetery, F/F, Ghosts, M/M, Multi, Parody, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 04:39:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6105175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caitlin drags a few friends to a cemetery when she loses a bet. That's it, that's the fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Out for a Swinging Wake

**Author's Note:**

> It's Halloween in February apparently (just my kind of holiday)
> 
> Added flashweather for the bae  
> Hoorah for rarepairs!
> 
> Oh and some elements were inspired by Guy de Maupassant's short story, Was It a Dream? You'll see what I mean.

"Don't see why _I_ gotta be here," Mick grumbles as he picks the lock. "You were the one who lost the bet."

Caitlin purses her lips. "It was part of the conditions," she replies teresely.

Barry smiles, putting a sympathetic hand on her back. Despite this supporting gesture, he reminds her, "You really shouldn't bet against Iris, Cait."

Caitlin huffs, crossing her arms. The October chill teases against her plaid jacket. "She is  _very_ good at provoking people."

"Scary good," Cisco grins, pointing and shooting, "am I right?"

Mick looks at him. Looks back at Caitlin. "You owe me big time for this, Snow."

He all but shoves open the gate, unheeding of its shrieking creak. Annoyance flickers in Caitlin when he steps aside and makes a grand gesture.

"After you, Doc."

Irritated, Caitlin stomps into the cemetery. It's a pretty big one, being the go-to for Central City residents. Only about a mile outside of the city, quiet and peaceful. Until groups like these idiots come along and disturb the earth.

Barry's practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. "When are we supposed to split up?"

Caitlin points to where the cemetery breaks into three separate paths. "Up there. We have to stay until sunrise, so find a nice grave to sleep on."

Cisco gushes, "This is so dope! I can't believe we're doing this, seriously."

"Me neither," Mick gripes. Without further ado, he strides towards the junction, taking the left path.

Cisco's smile fades into a pout. "For real?"

"Hey," Barry shrugs, "he's gotta entertain himself somehow. And we don't need a fire in here."

"We don't need  _his_ fire anywhere," Caitlin agrees. Rubbing her temples, she sighs, "I'll see you guys at sunrise. We can only call each other once, so make it count."

Cisco snickers, "Yeah, like if a zombie starts chasing us!"

Barry face-palms, but he can't hide his grin.

Caitlin scowls, "I know how to perform a labotomy."

She leaves Cisco scared, following Mick.

Barry blows out a breath. "Well dude, I guess I'll see you later."

He sets off on the right path at jog. Cisco mutters something under his breath and trudges down the middle path.

* * *

The full moon lights their path. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hoots, followed closely by a craw calling to their kin. More chilly wind courses through the graves.

It's like every horror movie cliché, and Caitlin doesn't like it one bit.

She and Mick walk side by side in tense silence, neither of them so much as glancing at the other. Their steps are sure, having memorized the cemetery's layout before arriving. Iris dictated that they have to go to specific graves.

Way towards the back of the cemetery, amidst a cluster of unmarked stones, sit two with engravings. They're relatively new, so their legend is fresh in everyone's minds.

The Siblings Two. Their names are a well-kept secret; their story depends on which fuckwit blog you click on. Some say they made a suicide pact, others say cult leaders, and of course, that they died mourning for love.

Oy.

Only thing that's known for certain are their engravings. 

_He caught cold and died_

_She followed the light_

Honestly, Mick has no idea where any of their rumors come from with those messages. But whatever. He's not here for a blog; he's here because Caitlin doesn't know how to pick her battles. As usual.

He glances at Caitlin. Ends up doing a double take when he sees she's trying to brace herself, taking deep breaths and everything.

"You kiddin' me, Doc?" he snaps, "Just put the fucking thing in!"

Caitlin glares at him. Takes a few extra seconds just to spite him. (This is why they're friends.) Next, she reaches into her jacket pocket, pulling out a beautiful gold necklace.

That's one of the prevailing rumors. Give the sister something shiny and she'll "follow the light." As in, rise from her grave and kill you in pursuit of more. You have to bury your shiny thing at least six inches underneath the soil to coincide with the whole six feet under concept. Oh, and obviously this all has to happen under a full moon. Obviously.

Ugh.

Caitlin sets the gold necklace aside and digs. She'd chosen to wear her dirty garden gloves for this, light green flowery ones that her mother insisted she have despite her leaving for the city, not the countryside.

Predictably, Mick just crosses his arms and watches her work. Iris assigned him to the brother, and you have to wake him at the same time as his sister. Sibling love and all that bull. In Mick's humble opinion, both morons can stay under there, leave him to his Saturday night tricks.

Caitlin brushes her hair from her eyes with her wrist. "Okay," she mumbles, taking the necklace. To Mick, she says, "Get ready."

For the brother, you need something warm. Instead, Mick stuffs an ice pack under the dirt as Caitlin buries the necklace. In tandem, they stand and step back.

All is quiet...

* * *

Barry definitely got turned around somewhere. Iris told him to pass the old oak and take another right, but this has gotta be the third time he's seeing it. You'd think he'd know the way, but no, apparently he doesn't.

With a frustrated huff, he plops onto the rock sitting at the stupid oak tree's base. Another chilly breeze has him pulling his green hoodie tighter around himself. He really should've put on a heavier jacket; why'd he think it'd be warmer tonight?

As if to prove his mistake, cold hands dig into his shoulders.

Blue-tinged lips smirk against his ear.

"Are you lost?"

* * *

_Thump._

Caitlin starts.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Groaning. A loud  _SLAM_.

The disturbed soil pushes up, up, up on the brother's grave. The ice pack shoves out, tumbling onto the grass. It is followed by a hand shooting from the ground.

Another hand. The top of a head.

Finally, a hoarse gasp for air, followed by harsh coughs.

The corpse is dressed in what he was wearing when he died: a blue jacket over a black shirt. Underneath the ground still are his legs, where he has on dark jeans and black combat boots. His skin is decayed, patches of fair skin peeking through sickly yellows and greens. Part of his chest is broken open, where worms and maggots fester around a shriveled heart and yellow bones. His right shoulder's also missing skin, jacket ripped to reveal it, bathed in moonlight. As for his face, only his cheeks and patches of his forehead have disappeared completely, leaving the bones and sinew of his jaw and most of his teeth visible. He blinks, white eyes slowly reverting to blue as the moon showers them with gentle light.

He growls at Mick.

"An ice pack, Mick? Really?"

* * *

Around them, the air warms into summer. Barry grins from ear to ear.

"I might've lost my way. I was looking for Mark Mardon's grave. Have you seen it?"

The spirit laughs, kissing his temple. "I might know where to find it."

Barry takes his hand.

* * *

Mick smirks. "Would you prefer my ass sittin' on your grave, Snart?"

With one last push, Snart forces the rest of his body from the dirt. On bony legs, barely concealed by the thinning denim, he stands and brushes what dirt he can from his person.

"Maybe I should just eat your brains," he comments dryly. "I've heard that's what zombies are supposed to do."

Mick snorts. "Certainly look like the  _Walking Dead_. Still prattle on like a Desperate Housewife." Snart's eyes narrow. "Don't think you'd give up that much time t'eat my brains when you could be giving one of your winning speeches."

"Um..." both turn to find a very pale Caitlin trembling before the sister's grave.

Snart rolls his eyes. "It's not polite to keep a lady waiting, sis."

A head pokes out of the ground, mouth still covered by the dirt. The eyes are crinkled with a smile.

Caitlin scoffs, "I thought you...you're late!"

Chapped lips shake off some dirt. "Were you worried for me, my love?"

"Just--get out of there!"

The sister gives a rasping giggle and obeys. She's already wearing Caitlin's gift.

"Is this one of mine, darling?" she grins, admiring the sapphire pendant.

Caitlin doesn't answer, though the zombie knows very well the answer is yes. She remembers her jewelry collection to the last stud.

"Thank you for returning it. You deserve a reward."

The sister stands. Her jacket is brown leather, her pants made of the same material but black. Her shirt was white, but now it's eaten through in some places, covered in dirt and yellowed like her skin. Her hair hangs simply from her scalp, covering her missing ear but not her maggot-eaten throat and collar. One of her eyes is missing as well, showing nothing but a black, hollowed hole. Her hands are entirely bone, and part of her intestines are poking from a tear in her stomach.

She presses a kiss to Caitlin's forehead. Caitlin doesn't flinch, neither at the flimsy skin nor the stench of rotting flesh.

"Hello, Caitlin."

A tiny smile lifts Caitlin's face. "Hello, Lisa."

"How adorable," Mick grumbles. Suddenly he's snapping, "Whoa, whoa, what're you doing?"

Snart, who had taken a step towards him, raised an eyebrow. The flesh crackles.

Pointing to his chest, Mick says, "You're not comin' near me with those things."

Snart looks down, sees the maggots and worms writhing in his body. When he meets Mick's eyes again, he's clearly unimpressed.

"You know you can't get rid of all of 'em, Mick," he points out.

"Yeah, well, I can try. Turn around."

Rolling his eyes again, Snart obliges. Mick grips his shoulder. With his free hand, he starts punching Snart's back.

A myriad of maggots and worms are forced from the zombie's corpse, left to wriggle in the grass. Snart huffs with the especially hard punches, but other than that, he shows no reaction other than looking extremely put upon by Mick's tenacity.

But perhaps, in light of what's going to happen after Mick is satisfied, we should call this corpse Len. That is, after all, what he prefers.

So, Len, though still feeling quite a few wriggling bodies in his stomach (for starters), is at last allowed to turn and sink into Mick's living flesh. He practically purrs as warmth seeps into his sagging skin, arms wrapping around Mick's waist, bare cheek pressing against his.

Len despises the heat, but this...this is good.

Mick grunts, tearing his face from the squelching that comes from Len rubbing their faces together. "You fucking bastard," he snarls, wiping the old musty blood and other suspicious fluids from his cheek. Len peers at him from his shoulder, oh so innocent. "Don't lookit me like that. I'll stuff you back in your grave."

Len smirks. "I'm not a problem you can flesh out so easily."

Caitlin sighs. Here they come. Lisa grins into her hair.

"Chill out, Mick. I won't beat the puns to death this time."

"Oh for the love of...just shut up, Lenny."

"Make me."

" _Fine._ "

"Caitlin-dear," Lisa pipes up, taking her sweetheart's hand, "why don't we go for a lovely midnight stroll?"

Caitlin eagerly nods. "Good idea."

* * *

Thus, once again, Cisco is left standing in the middle of Central Cemetery. To his right, Barry and the ghost, Mardon, are stargazing of all things. To his left, Mick is making out with Leonard Snart, a fucking zombie. And heading away from them is Caitlin holding hands with Lisa Snart, who, might he add, is also a fucking zombie.

"Seriously?" he shouts. "You know this makes you all necrophiliacs!"

Him and his adorable mouth.

Len and Lisa smirk at each other.

And so, Cisco is chased by zombies after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Have mercy on the typos. This was written entirely on my phone.
> 
> As for Iris' bet: she only knows that Barry likes a guy named Mardon. Had no idea what she was doing when she dared Caitlin to drag people into the cemetery. She'll find out someday, but it is not this day.
> 
> Also, I didn't even notice, but I passed the 100 Works mark? So...
> 
> Thank you for reading my stuff, you guys!! You are wonderful people!


End file.
